Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

Aria couldn't tell how long she had slept or how much time had even passed since Fenris had set foot inside her mansion. She sat up, chilled with the realization that he was no longer next to her. The sky outside was still dark. Her eyes frantically searched the room until she found his form standing next to the chamber's fireplace, one arm rested on the mantle while the other hung limply at his side. His head was down, but she could not see his face. He wore his armour and all its implements again.

The conformation of his shoulders brought yet another chill to her bones. Where he'd exuded his normal haunted soul before, he seemed doubly tortured now, as if the weight of Thedas rested solely on his shoulders. He slowly turned to face her, having heard her stir under the heavy covers that adorned her lavish bed.

"If it was terrible, I can explain," Aria said, standing and stretching to dispel the disquiet that stole over her. His eyes raked over her naked form heatedly, lovingly, a caress she could almost feel. She laid back down on the bed, facing him on her side.

"I'm sorry, it's not... It was fine," Fenris stammered, pacing in front of the fireplace, like he always did when he was ill at ease. "No, that is insufficient." He stopped in front of her and his anxiety ceased for just a second as he reverently said, "It was better than anything I could have dreamed."

Realization dawned on Aria then. He had acted like he was being physically hurt throughout the course of their courting dance. The pulses in the lyrium—it must have pained him. "Is it the markings? They...hurt don't they?"

Fenris sighed and abruptly looked away. "It's not that. I can take that." He started pacing again, this time at the foot of the bed. Aria sat up as he continued. "I began to remember. My life before. Just flashes..." He turned to her then, his eyes suddenly going downward, his hands wringing together. He seemed to be in physical anguish. "It's too much," he said on a shudder. "This is too fast. I cannot...do this."

For a second, Aria felt as though she'd been struck by a bolt of lightning, straight to the chest. She couldn't breathe for the crushing sensation that stopped all air from entering or exiting her lungs. Her ears rang and the room seemed to spin for a moment. She fought through it and decided to try and change his mind. While she worked out what to say, she quickly donned her robe.

"Your life before? You remember it?"

"I've never remembered anything from before the ritual. But there were faces. Words..." he graced her with a reply, his fingers worrying at the hair above his ears in trepidation. "For just a moment, I could recall all of it. And then it just... It slipped away," he said, his voice breaking.

It was Aria's turn to pace. He watched her, his mind spinning crazily. He had seen everything. Heard his name. Saw his family... But worse, he saw that he'd sought Danarius out. He'd won a competition between young warriors. To the victor went a life of luxury, freedom for his family, and prestige bestowed upon his name. He'd wanted so much to be seen as an equal. To be seen as something more than the lapdogs his people were to those of better fortune. He wanted to be known, to be feared, to be respected. And now... All he wanted to do was escape it all. The tidal wave of self-loathing nearly made his knees buckle and he couldn't stand to have Aria look at him like that, the fear, the compassion, the nobility, and all the good that she was, seeing him as a lover, when he was in fact more monster than that mage who loved her.

"That's good, though isn't it? We could try again—maybe they'll stay next time," Aria suggested, stopping her frantic pacing to catch his hands in hers.

"Perhaps you don't realize how...upsetting this is," he stated through ground teeth. He let go of her hands and turned back towards the fireplace. "I've never remembered anything, and to have it all come back in a rush, only to lose it... I can't," his voice was tortured. "I...can't."

"Why can't you? I'll help you," Aria pleaded, reaching for him, then quickly retreating, fearing that her knees would buckle. "Fenris...please..."

"I'm sorry," Fenris said, his eyes pleading with her. "I feel like such a fool. All I wanted was to be happy... Just for a little while. Forgive me."

He turned and Aria watched him go, frozen in place, her mind struggling to make sense of what had just happened. She felt... Used. Anger flared hotly within her and she took a step forward, as if to chase him. She stopped. It didn't make sense. The things he'd said and done, the way he made her feel, the way she knew she had made him feel... None of it seemed to fit.

She heard him leave the mansion a few moments later. Her knees buckled at the sound of the door closing, whisper quiet on well-oiled hinges, like a soft sigh of anguish. The finality of it was a blow she felt deep in her chest. She stayed kneeling, her eyes on her bedroom door, but seeing nothing. She looked out her window, her head swiveling drunkenly. Moonlight poured in, bluish white and pure. It spilled onto the desk and lit upon the dress that hung over her chair. The dress he'd given her, discarded there after that first reading lesson.

Aria crawled over to it and dragged it down to rest in her lap as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her fingers running over the lacing of the bodice in quiet contemplation. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She just stayed there, fingers splaying the dress's fabric, her mind refusing to work anymore. Aria was cold. Not physically. She just couldn't feel anything and Marethari's words to her, the first time she met the elven Keeper, came rushing back.

There is a light in your heart. Don't let it go out.

Aria hung her head in remembrance of those words and she let her breath out slowly. "Too late," she whispered. She curled up on the floor, hugging the dress to her, and fell asleep.

ooooooo

Merrill walked through the alienage, keeping her head down as one of the other elves hailed her. She had just seen a templar leave the alienage and she wasn't too keen on giving anyone any information. The other elven woman chased her and caught her at her door.

"Please, you're of the Dalish. My son is with them and Marethari will be here soon. You know Hawke, yes? She is one of your friends?" the woman gushed as Merrill looked at her wide-eyed.

"Y-yes, I know Hawke—oh! You're Feynriel's mother! Arianni, is it?"

"Yes! And I am in need of Hawke's help again," the other elf continued. "The Keeper says some terrible ill has fallen over my boy and she needs to do a ritual in the fade. She said to get you or Hawke, but I'd be much more put at ease if you both came!"

"Let me put my things inside, and I will fetch Hawke for you," Merrill told her.

"Oh thank you! Thank you!" Arianni gushed, turning and running back to her own hovel across the alienage.

Hawke, Anders, Bethany, and Varric had helped Feynriel, an elf-human boy with a propensity for magic, escape the grasp of the templars back when Hawke first had started making a name for herself. Merrill had heard the story retold many times, grander and grander with each new incarnation. She wondered if it was true that Varric had gotten the slavers to let the boy go when Varric told them Feynriel was the Viscount's love child. Sometimes, the wildest, most unbelievable parts of his stories rang with the most truth.

Merrill deposited her groceries on the table of her perpetually dirty little hovel, then took her leave. People stared at her as she passed through the Hightown bazaar. She stuck out like a sore thumb here, among the wealthiest and most affluent of the humans. She hated that. She never felt like she belonged anywhere.

As she bounded up the steps that led towards the estate row near the Viscount's square, someone called her name. She turned to look and saw Fenris in the shadows by the tall pillars that lined the square. She dashed over to him, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.

"What are you doing?! There are templars about!" Fenris angrily hissed at her. "What would Hawke say if you got caught?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm busy. I didn't come all this way to be bothered by the likes of you," Merrill quipped, storming off towards Hawke's estate.

"Where are you going?" Fenris demanded, falling into step with her.

"Hawke is needed. You are not," Merrill said, picking up her pace. Fenris kept on.

"Who needs her?" he growled.

"It's Dalish and magic business, so it's of no interest to you, I'm sure," Merrill stormily said, glaring over at Fenris as they both speed-walked in the shadows.

They climbed the steps to Hawke's mansion together. Bodahn answered the door, but informed them Hawke had left just over nearly two weeks ago with Aveline, Anders, and Varric. They'd gone back to the Deep Roads to fetch some fool-hardy dwarves seeking their own wealth, a request made by a desperately angry father in the Merchant's Guild who blamed Hawke for the actions of his rash sons.

Fenris stalked away from Hawke's estate as soon as Bodahn closed the door. Merrill kept pace at his side.

"Where are you going?" the Dalish elf petulantly demanded.

"I'm going to wait for Hawke to return," came the curt reply.

"Why? So you can talk her out of helping?"

Fenris leered at her. "Sometimes she doesn't know when to just let things take their course," he bitterly snarled.

"No. She is a truly good person and she always helps. You could do well to learn a sense of compassion," Merrill fired back. They moved at a quick jog now towards the Kirkwall gates that Hawke would have to pass through to enter the city.

"I have compassion. I just also know when to put something down," Fenris railed.

"Is that what happened then?" Merrill asked as they stopped at the gates, her eyes alight with fury. "Is that what you did? You 'put her down'?"

Fenris was taken aback. As far as he knew, no one was aware of what had transpired after he slew Hadriana. No one knew he'd made love to Aria, no one knew of the revelations he'd had that crushed his very soul as a result. He hadn't seen her since that night, nearly three months ago. He had learned that when Hawke didn't want to be found, it was futile to search for her. The last time he saw Varric, the dwarf had asked if Hawke had seemed a bit off lately. Fenris's reply had only been that she didn't seem any different to him. Not exactly a lie; he hadn't seen her to know her demeanor had changed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he tersely hedged, making a deliberately lengthy scan of the horizon.

"She's utterly broken," Merrill whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I hate to see it."

Fenris paced at this, multiple emotions colliding in the expressions on his face. Anger, hurt, fear, worry.

"She hides it well. I've seen Hawke take some emotional hits before, but this... I don't know if anyone else has noticed, but she's not the same."

"We aren't together," Fenris found himself saying. "I don't know if we ever were, even-"

"I see how you look at her, with those big sad puppy dog eyes," Merrill crooned then.

"I do not have puppy dog eyes," Fenris tersely commented.

"You're in love with her," Merrill chirped, nimbly hopping up to sit on the top of the crenelations that lined the city's walls. Her feet dangled childishly as she sat there regarding him with a smug grin.

"I am not," Fenris growled, turning away from her.

"She's in love with you. And she's behaving as though you broke her heart," Merrill softly accused. "I don't know if your heart's broken. Sometimes I wonder if you have one at all."

Fenris sighed at this and renewed his pacing in front of her, every few seconds his eyes darting to the road. Dusk was falling quickly. He could just leave and come back to wait in the morning, but Hawke was often known to push through the night if she really just wanted to get home. He couldn't leave. And it didn't look like Merrill was leaving either.

"Sometimes I wonder if she truly understands the nature of pure evil," Fenris finally said, still pacing.

"I think she does. But I think if she sees the slightest amount of good, she'll stare it down."

"The line between courage and stupidity is very thin."

"I don't believe for a moment that you think Aria is stupid," Merrill chimed, legs still dangling childishly.

Fenris stopped pacing and placed his hands on the railing, his gaze searching the horizon for movement along the road. "Being with her... It's the most pain and pleasure, simultaneously..."

Merrill was silent, watching him gaze longingly into the distance, the light in his eyes full of hurt and regret. And suddenly, she saw what Hawke saw. A tortured soul that needed rescuing, to be pulled back from the brink of the Void. Hawke loved to fix broken things but Merrill didn't know if this one was worth saving, in the end.

"To think I felt that happy, then to learn that I don't deserve it... It's more than any creature can bear. All I want... All that...I...want... I wish I couldn't want. I wish I didn't know. I hate myself. To think that what I wanted led to all of this, it's madness. And then there's that mage... He hounds her whenever she will allow it. He poisons her while he serves his higher purpose. Bah! He would see us all drown in blood to turn us into Tevinter. Magisters and slaves. That's the legacy he promotes. And she helps him. Always."

"You're jealous of Anders? For the love of the Creators, why?" Merrill incredulously asked, her eyes large in disbelief.

"I am not jealous!"

"Pfff. Please. You're the picture of jealousy," Merrill snorted, dismissing his objection with a wave.

"He will sacrifice her for his cause," Fenris bitterly retorted, slamming his fist down on the ledge. "He will kill her. And when he does, I'm going to crush his heart in my hand."

"I'm not going to debate this with you. You're ridiculous," Merrill piped, springing down from her perch.

"You're not so unlike him," Fenris continued.

"Shut up. You can't even tell when you love someone."

"What do you want me to say? You don't know anything about what happened between Aria and I. Quit pretending like you do," Fenris dismissed her.

"No, you're right. I don't. But I do know that you love her, and she obviously loves you—what I can't understand is, why then aren't you together?" Merrill continued despite his drop of the topic.

"Because I don't deserve her, and she can't see that."

"Oh, so you're gonna be just like Anders then? Reel her in, indulge yourself, and then just drop her when it no longer suits you?"

Fenris rounded on her at this, his hand went to the hilt of his sword, his lyrium brandings flared. "Don't compare me to that man ever again! Especially when you are no different than him!"

Merrill had gripped her staff and tiny bolts of electricity circled her hand. "I don't know how you can think I'm at all like him, other than both being mages." Her voice was quiet, controlled.

"You would destroy your clan to chase the offerings of a demon," Fenris snarled. "You have no bearings on anything real. That mirror is just as detrimental as Anders's cause."

"Ugh! You don't know anything. You just...use people as you go, running away from everything. That's all you ever do. Run! You're scared of feeling anything but hate because that's all you are. A big ball of hate!" Merrill returned.

Fenris straightened and turned back to watching the horizon. "And you had the love of your people, but you're so obsessed with history that you ignore the future. Tell me about this business, this Dalish magic business you're seeking Aria's aide in."

Merrill glared at him and hopped back up to her perch on the railing. "Why? You're just going to hate me more for it. And her, because I know she'll help."

"If I'm going to have to defend her against her own stupidity, I would like to at least know what I'm walking into."

Merrill rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "A long time ago, Aria helped a mage escape the Circle. He was a child. The man he entrusted with his escape gave him instead to a slaver. Aria, Varric, Anders, and Bethany saved him. They sent him to my Keeper. He has a unique magical talent. He's a dreamer."

"A dreamer?"

"He can control the Fade with his dreams; he can enter sleeping people's minds if he hones his skills correctly."

"Why in the name of the Maker would anyone want to help someone learn to do that?" Fenris nearly roared. "Are you all daft?"

"He was a scared little boy. The Circle would have killed him!"

"As well they should, before he can kill us all."

Merrill glared at him, realizing his hair seemed unnaturally bright. It was dark now, and the moon had risen high above the city. She looked around, then peered at the road. "You're dangerous. And Aria didn't kill you."

"So what now? What has he done?" Fenris pressed, ignoring the barb.

"He's fallen gravely ill and the Keeper will need to do a ritual that sends people into the Fade to help him wake up," Merrill answered.

"Fan-bloody-tastic," Fenris sarcastically said, hopping up to sit on the wall and watch the road. "The last place in this world I want to go is the Fade."

"It's not so bad, actually," Merrill chirped.

"Go to sleep. I'll keep an eye out," Fenris barked.

"She looks at you differently you know," Merrill ignored the order.

"What?"

"When Aria looks at you, her eyes get warmer, and most times she smiles, even if you aren't looking. When she looks at Anders..." she paused for a moment as though trying to finish forming the thought, "It's pity and sorrow that cross her face."

Fenris said nothing, but inside, he felt slight relief. Then he remembered who and what he was. Anger filled him and his self-loathing sucked him into silence.

They fell asleep watching the road. Fenris woke first just before dawn. Merrill was still soundly sleeping. He stretched his stiff limbs and looked out at the road. Fearing he had missed Aria's return, Fenris shook Merrill awake.

"Are they back?" she groggily asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"I fell asleep," Fenris tersely replied. "You stay here. I'm going to go back to her mansion to see if she's returned. If she returns before I get back, I'll meet you in the alienage."

With that, Fenris ran up to Hightown, reaching Aria's mansion fifteen minutes later. Bodahn sleepily answered the door to inform Fenris that no, she had not been home yet. With a curt "Thank you", Fenris ran back to the gate. Merrill was still there, leaning on the railing and looking out at the road.

"They should be here soon," Merrill worriedly said as Fenris returned.

"You knew when she left?" Fenris asked, his voice steely.

"Yes, but I thought she'd be back by now."

"They went to the Deep Roads. It's a hike of at least four days one-way," Fenris snarled.

"Yes, but Aria is quick and efficient. I thought she'd be home last night. Do you think something could have happened to her? To them?"

"Mage, do you ever shut up?" he almost whined in exasperation.

Merrill glowered at him but said nothing in response.